


Well-Done

by ballvvasher



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Sebastian, Cooking, Crying, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Spanking, Top Chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballvvasher/pseuds/ballvvasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian orchestrates an evening of wining and dining for his lover. This leads to kinky sex. Naturally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well-Done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sidekikcs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidekikcs/gifts).



> The recipes Sebastian uses (I might have to try them out sometime so idk if they are actually good but they sound good):
> 
>  
> 
> [Venison steak with port sauce](http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/778650/venison-steak-with-port-sauce)  
> [Cucumber watercress salad](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/rachael-ray/cucumber-watercress-salad-recipe.html)
> 
>  
> 
> **Don't forget to sign up for the Evanstan Big Bang! We're over on [Tumblr](http://evanstanbang.tumblr.com/). Signups are still open (until late November 2014)[here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1-3qGSFsv0M_Q--coyUdCDSRN7oG_NN4rpGGzQaDIqWo/viewform)! (Just supply an email if you don't have a tumblr)

Sebastian can’t cook. He’s never had to, never wanted to, and because of this he never had any inclination to learn how.  His need to please turned out to be the only force in the world that could ever compel him into preparing a three course meal. Need to please one very specific, very deserving man. Thank God for online recipes.

Chris left their New York apartment in a flurry early in the morning, babbling about meeting with some producers from one of his many new projects and dropping a kiss to Sebastian’s slightly drool-crusted cheek. Later, when Sebastian finally roused from their reinforced bed at a glamorous twelve forty-five p.m., he thumbed open his phone. Chris had texted around ten saying that he wouldn’t be home until the evening, probably six o’clock.

 After a lonesome gym visit, a shower, and about thirty minutes of research, he eventually found a recipe that seemed as simple as it sounded delicious. A quick stroll to the grocery store had brought redcurrant, port wine, cinnamon, and orange zest sauce over thick cuts of black peppered venison steak, partnered with sautéed miniature golden potatoes and cucumber watercress salad into their home. The meal was aided by some Pinot Noir red wine that the grocer recommended. Wine was hardly his forte, and tequila was surely improper aside a home cooked meal, so he had entrusted the specialist with the choice. He knows Chris well enough that he enjoys his steak more rare than medium, and that he loves most flavors of vegetable entrees privy to American fine dining, so Sebastian is confident that his meal will impress.

Sebastian can hardly wield a knife over his cutting board or effectively flip hearty chunks of meat like he sees cooking show hosts do, so he begins the preparation at four-thirty p.m. The potatoes are prepared carefully so as to not overcook meticulously washed and chopped quarters and halves. The sauce is blended, easily enough. The steak is much trickier because he has no idea how to check the level of pink within the chunk of meat, until he dumbly realizes he can just slice open one down the middle. He makes sure to not serve the sliced open one to Chris. Sebastian desires his presentation to be nothing short of perfection.

To preserve heat and freshness, he leaves the potatoes and steaks on low heats while he prepares the salad. Sebastian takes extra precaution around the knife this time as he slices the English cucumber into fine sections. He learns very quickly that maneuvering a kitchen knife is reasonably different from plastic prop knives. Once the salad is sealed in some tupperware in the refrigerator next to the chilling bottle of wine, Sebastian lowers the heat on the stove even more and moves on to his bedroom to further prepare himself for the evening.

Sebastian Stan has a variety of buttplugs; one might say it’s a growing collection. The scents from the kitchen have been carried from there to his bedroom and his body thrums as he peruses the many shapes and styles of plugs he has to choose from. Sebastian settles on a baby-blue ribbed plug of medium length, accented with a large, pearl-like knob on the end. The toy is placed on their made-up bed, and Sebastian decides it’s time to don the proper attire.

A peach cashmere sweater and some luxuriously textured deep brown slacks, adorned with the slim, white gold chain Chris gave to Sebastian for their six month anniversary. The pants didn’t need any ironing (and he was, in fact, proficient with an iron), so he set forth into the connecting bathroom to wash up and shave the stubble from his chin and tidy the dark hair beginning to dust once more along his lower abdomen. Then comes the moisturizing and the waxing of his ass—simultaneously his least and most favorite part of his grooming routine. His little smile is glazed by favorite apple chap-stick.

The clock on the nightstand reads five seventeen p.m., so Sebastian takes his time with the plug, already breathing heavier in anticipation of what’ll occur when the time comes to remove it. Once he wills away the beginning hardness of his cock he dresses, smoothing the sweater over his chest and tugging on the slacks along with a simple brown leather belt.

Chris probably isn’t even on his way back home yet, Sebastian thinks, so he slips on his sneakers because they were already out, bending to adjust the laces. The plug moves decadently inside his ass as he does this and he continues to will away hardness. Jogging to the nearby confectionary with an erection is a story he’ll never want to tell.

The box of Chris’s favorite goodies—peanut brittle, fudge squares, and those peppermint sticks that melt like butter in your mouth—is a satisfying weight in his hands. Sebastian is calm, collected, confident. He’s got the whole evening planned. _Just_ up until the point where he knows Chris will take over.

\--

“Something smells amazing, babe,” Chris booms, shrugging off his leather jacket and dropping his key onto a dish on the stand by the front door.

Sebastian peers around the corner. “Come sit. Made somethin’ special for you tonight.” He attempts to make his voice sound as sultry as possible.

Chris walks into the kitchen, shoes still on his feet whereas Sebastian’s are bare, to grab a warm plate out of the dishwasher. He moves to uncover the lid of the potatoes, and Sebastian admonishes him, tone authoritative to a slim degree. “Hey, none of that. I’ll serve you in a bit. Can you go wash up and take a seat at the table?”

Chris grins, understanding and grateful. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he croons, kissing Sebastian on the temple, and heads to the bathroom.

Sebastian hopes his boyfriend will catch on to his game. However, this isn’t only play to Sebastian. He loves caring for Chris, loves acting as a homemaker and serving meals so someone he reveres and someone who supports him. But Chris has the most important role to play tonight so Sebastian wants to send a clear message. He needs Chris to take control.

If he were to make a purposeful mistake he would be certain Chris asserts himself to a higher tier of control for the time being and would punish him accordingly. But no matter how much his body revels in those specific punishments Chris has inflicted in the past, Sebastian knows that what he really desires tonight is praise for a job well-done.

Sebastian tongs two bowls of the watercress salad and sets the steak and potatoes on two identical plates. Then comes the silverware, the fine threaded specialty napkins of which he could only purchase in bulk, and two spotless glasses for wine.

When Chris pulls up a seat Sebastian is just setting the entrée to the table. He doesn’t acknowledge Chris, doesn’t turn his attention from the meal he’s arranging. Then, once the plates are in order and the dirtied serving utensils are stashed out of sight, Sebastian catches the warm smile lighting his boyfriend’s features. Sebastian’s gaze doesn’t stick around to watch it fall as he moves, squatting low to focus on Chris’s feet.

With a careful grip, Sebastian gently tugs the shoes from Chris’s feet. Sebastian schools his features into a trusting, exalting expression from his crouch on the floor, meeting Chris’s eyes with his own. No words are exchanged; they don’t need to be. The air around them colorizes with the shift of the mood, of the new dynamic they’ve transitioned to. “You don’t need to do that, babe,” he murmurs, testing the waters.

Sebastian palms the skin above the back of his ankle, eyes wide and probing. “Yes, I do. Sir,” The hairs that thicken his legs just above the ankle tease Sebastian’s chap-sticked lips when he bends to place a kiss there.

Chris exhales through his nostrils. “Why don’t we dig in, hm? That sound good?”

Kisses are peppered across to Chris’s other ankle. “Mhm,” The angle of his back arching causes the plug gain some much needed friction. The heat is exquisite.

“Sebastian.” Commanding. Firm, but not without patience.

Like a match to a virgin candle wick, Sebastian ignites at the order. He’s off the ground and sitting straight in his seat, remarkable for having moved so soundlessly.

“This looks beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” Chris pierces his flawless steak with a knife and fork. Sebastian picks up his own utensils shortly after Chris moans around a sliver. “Hell, you’re definitely making all the meals for now on.” Sebastian has no qualms with this, though the comment is hollowed by the fact that they cook for each other equally.

“I’m glad you like it. Don’t forget to try the sauce.” The advice is added timidly, yet Chris complies. Sebastian is rewarded with another groan of appreciation. Pride blooms within him.

Again, Chris offers his praise. “I had no idea how talented in the kitchen you are, babe. I mean it. I really do. Not to mention,” Chris pauses, sipping his wine, “you look absolutely stunning.” As expected, Sebastian responds so well to the compliments and the highest tips of his cheeks pink accordingly. 

The rest of the meal is spent in silence because Chris does not initiate any conversation. Chris gestures for Sebastian to fill his wine glass and, of course, Sebastian obeys. Eye contact is held sparingly.

“You know,” Chris begins, “I think this meal is missing something,”

“Oh?”

“Don’t you agree?” Chris is smirking, clearly cognizant of all of Sebastian intentions.

The smirk is returned. “I’ve got just the thing.” Sebastian saunters to the kitchen and returns to join Chris at his side. “May I?” His eyes flick to Chris’s lap causing those thick eyebrows to rise.

“Be my guest,” Chris chuckles, scooting his chair to accommodate the girth of Sebastian’s thighs over his lap from his spot at the table.

Sebastian settles and keeps his arms at his own sides. Chris, of course, does the exact opposite. Large hands encircle Sebastian’s trim waist and Chris’s bearded cheek rasps against Sebastian’s smooth one as he pulls his lover close. “May I?” Chris echoes into Sebastian’s ear. He thinks he knows the answer until a soft sucking sound replaces what he thought would be an affirmation. Chris pulls back so see Sebastian pressing a stout peppermint stick past the tight picker of his lips with a finger. Chris barks a laugh. He can’t help it.

Sebastian’s lips are clasped to keep the candy from slipping out but that doesn’t stop Chris from tipping in for a kiss that’s mostly tongue. They part with a soft pop. “Mmm, you taste so sweet, babe.” With or without the apple chap-stick and peppermint, Sebastian is Chris’s favorite dessert. “Why don’t you get undressed for me while I deal with the mess?” Chris gives Sebastian’s ass a little squeeze to punctuate.

Sebastian wants to protest. After all, it’s his role to clean and cook. But it’s more important that he follow his objectives. Clacking the peppermint on his teeth, Sebastian pads into their room without looking back. He disrobes completely and tosses his expensive clothes in the hamper by the bathroom and his candy in the trashcan. He’s vibrating with excitement.

Chris enters, eying his completely naked lover from the doorway. “On your knees.”

Sebastian complies.

Chris closes the distance and his calculating eyes lock with Sebastian’s rounded ones. He unhooks his belt once his crotch is level with Sebastian’s face. “Mouth.”

Sebastian, intent, moves quickly with his hands towards Chris’s fly. Until—“ _Ah_ ” a noise of disapproval. Sebastian blanches as Chris’s firm grip locks around his wrists. “Mouth,” he repeats.

Chris notes the way Sebastian’s throat bobs and gaze reverts immediately. They play this game enough that Chris knows if Sebastian were uncomfortable with his treatment, it’s ‘red’ to stop and ‘yellow’ to ease up, but Sebastian has said nothing. So Chris continues.

It takes Sebastian all of a brief moment to tug the zipper with his teeth, and the fabric of Chris’s boxers give to the semi he’s been sporting since the dinner table. Sebastian tongue laps at the tip and along the rippling veins of Chris’s cut cock that he has mapped out. His hands are balled in two fists at his sides as he works in earnest to free that growing girth, and Sebastian’s own arousal is mounting on its own.

Licks and kisses turn to laps, and Sebastian begins to become bolder with his ministrations. He takes the head and a good half of Chris into his mouth, bobbing rhythmically, expertly. Chris groans, but isn’t satisfied. “I know you can take more than that, babe.”

Sebastian doesn’t falter, but he slows. He definitely can take more, but he’s gonna need Chris to give him a little extra force. When the hand at the back of his skull never appears, Sebastian works his throat to widen itself as he pushes, suctions Chris’s cock deeper and deeper. It would help if he could use his hands, but his concerns and slight pains melt in wake of the feeling of accomplishment that envelops him when his lips close in on the root of Chris’s cock, willed by nothing more than the power of his mouth and throat.

Chris curses, hips undulating on their own accord as Sebastian’s throat flutters around him. He flicks his eyes down and nearly loses his load to the sight of Sebastian—his wide, dark, wet eyes, those exquisitely rouged lips as red as sin itself vicelike against the root of his prick. And then those eyes pick up Chris’s as Sebastian bobs and sucks again to his balls so that Chris feels the subtle bumps of Sebastian’s throat encasing the head of his cock, and Chris forces himself to stop Sebastian before it’s too late. “Stop,” he gasps, and Sebastian can’t help the little whimper of confusion as he releases Chris from his mouth.

Sebastian’s bare chest is heaving but he is otherwise motionless when Chris brings his hand to thumb his cheek. His eyes close at the gentle touch and he begins to speak. “Is something wrong, sir?” His voice is authentically roughened.

“No, no. You were perfect. You’re perfect,” Chris pants, earning him a dazed smile from his partner. Chris realigns himself. “Get on the center of the bed. Elbows and knees.”

Sebastian visibly shivers and does as he’s told. With this new positioning the plug gains friction from within his body and he suppresses a groan.

Chris toes out of his slacks and peels off his undershirt and boxers, finally as bare as his lover. Stepping to the edge of the footboard, Chris can now see the shape of the plug’s pearlescent end, tucked away like a hidden treasure. He notes that Sebastian’s ass is completely devoid of hair, and he almost wants to say that he didn’t have to groom himself to such an extent. But he says nothing, because of course Sebastian didn’t _have_ to. He’d taken it upon himself because he wanted to as the grooming, the dressing up, and the dinner preparations are as much of a treat for Sebastian as they are for Chris.

With silent strides, Chris removes the two well-loved black scarves from his top drawer. “Bring your chest down and your arms flat out in front of you.”

Sebastian shuts his bright eyes and completes the instruction. The wiry bedframe perfectly suits their needs, allowing all sorts of ropes, ribbons, and straps to be fastened to it. As usual, Chris’s knots are tight and expert, and Chris finally takes a moment to consume the sight before him. Sebastian: arms taught and bound, back arched and rippling, ass round and inviting.

Two hands make contact with Sebastian’s evenly tanned cheeks, parting the muscle to reveal the entire end of the plug. Sebastian groans appreciatively at the feeling of being exposed. Chris brings his whiskered lips to the bead of the plug, sucking on it so that it pulls and Sebastian keens at the friction. He takes in more, running his tongue along and inside the seam of the plug and Sebastian’s rim. Chris repeats the motion again and again and Sebastian’s gasps are almost drowned out by the pounding of his own head.

“I’m going to remove this,” Chris begins once he comes up for air, petting a heavy hand along the plug’s end. “But you’re going to be doing all the work.”

Sebastian nods, eager.

Chris positions his fingers around the tip and allows Sebastian to ride the plug, swiveling his hips to get it to twist it out of his body. It’s difficult to relax his muscles, hard as a rock he is, until it slips at just the right angle for the tip to prod his prostate. Sebastian shudders and against his control his body envelops the plug back inside his channel. His chest heaves, frustrated. He tries again. Chris’s fingers do not move.

The same thing happens exactly two more times, and Sebastian is very stressed out and very, very horny. But Chris is as patient as he is commanding and offers his own vote of confidence. “Babe, you almost got it that time,” he breaths, clearly enjoying Sebastian’s little dilemma.

“I’m trying, sir. I know I can get it, if I could just—” Sebastian’s spine curls forward and his knees fold, using the newfound leverage to ease the plug out slowly. His thighs tremble as he struggles to relax and exert all at once.

Sebastian gasps once he finally eases the plug from himself. He bites at his lip and waits for Chris to continue.

“You did so well, baby.” His voice is like melted chocolate. Sebastian’s hole is taught to the eye and lax to the touch as Chris brings his pointed tongue to delve between his cheeks. He brings his hands to Sebastian’s sides, wordlessly urging him to fuck himself on his face. Sebastian quakes, choking around his moans and tugging helplessly against the cotton cuffs around his wrists.

“Tell me what you want,” Chris murmurs, still nibbling Sebastian’s hole.

This is unexpected, so Sebastian hesitates then answers, timorous. “Fuck me, sir. Please,” he grits, arching his back to present himself even more.

Chris says nothing and leaves Sebastian’s demand hanging. He continues his ministrations with his tongue, roughly and noisily devouring Sebastian’s now very red ass. Chris hasn’t instructed him to be silent so he vocalizes the frustrating pleasure building and ebbing far from his control. After several long minutes, Chris extricates his face from Sebastian’s now visibly beard-burned ass. But not before he gives Sebastian one last lick, receiving a twitch from under the nudge of his exercised tongue.

He’s soundless as he moves to their nightstand to pump a bit of their immodestly sized container of lube. “Do not make a sound,” Chris orders.

And there it is. Sebastian holds his breath and prepares himself as fingers enter him. The move is succinct enough for Sebastian to tense, mouth gaping with a silent cry at the feeling of finally being stretched again after all that teasing.

His cock leaks onto their rumpled duvet as Chris’s fingers hammer into his prostate. Sebastian’s arms ache from being clenched and spread for so long, but it’s nothing compared to the pleasurable pain center that used to be his cock and ass and he’d never have it any other way. He wants to moan, urge Chris on and beg for his cock, but he can’t disobey his lover now that he’s done so well.

Chris guides a large palm to Sebastian’s distended perineum then to the base of his cock, and Sebastian chokes around another groan. “Baby, you’re perfect like this. Absolutely perfect.”

Sebastian almost whimpers, almost, but he can’t help the way he spreads his knees farther apart and bucks his ass backward towards Chris’s hands. Begging with his body rather than his voice. It wasn’t against the rules.

Chris chuckles. “We’ll have it your way, then.” He pulls his hands out and away to push Sebastian bodily further up the bed, giving Sebastian’s elbows more leverage whether it was intended or not.

Eyes wide with surprise, Sebastian cranes his neck to glimpse at Chris finally lining up his cock. Sebastian’s heated face warms further with a smile as he waits to get pounded.

He’s so fucking eager that he thinks time must be passing too slowly when nothing happens. No cock, no more hands, nothing. So he cranes his neck further, and Chris is looking right at him with dark eyes. Smirking devilishly. “Go ahead, babe. It’s all yours,” punctuating himself with a minute movement of his hips that makes the tip of his cock give Sebastian’s hole a sticky kiss.

Sebastian wants to curse, but not because he’s angry. He wants to scream because on top of Chris being sweet, funny, and gorgeous, he’s truly a kinky fucking bastard. He wants to tell him that they fit together so well, but since he can’t, he’s gonna show him. Sebastian exhales and angles his hips to take Chris’s cock in. He pushes, and Chris is completely unmoving. Then he pushes harder, past his rings of muscle and then he feels the perfect shape of Chris’s cockhead.

Chris groans unabashedly and gives it his all to stay stock still. And to not come the instant Sebastian sits himself on his dick because that would be embarrassing. “Take it all,” he grunts. “I know you can.” He bends forward to fuck his tongue in Sebastian’s rouge tipped ear.

Trembling, Sebastian digs his slightly bent elbows into the mattress and tilts his ass up to take more or Chris in. He didn’t realize how helpful both gravity and Chris himself has been until he has neither at his disposal to assist with getting this giant cock into himself, but he uses what little leverage he’s got to get Chris’s dick in him, completely balls deep.

Chris is breathing hard, and his chest is sealed to Sebastian’s glistening back. Sebastian’s brow is taut as Chris moves to lock their lips, and Chris passes on his moans to tantalize Sebastian’s soundless mouth. “You’re amazing,” he croons, and Sebastian reels at the taste of himself on Chris’s tongue. They part with a wet smack, opening eyes that they hadn’t realized were shut.

Chris lifts and grips the railing of the headboard. His next command is finalizing. “Now fuck yourself until you come.”

Sebastian doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips roll, knowing the perfect angle for the best build up. He rides Chris, head thrown back as he attempts to wring out his pleasure. It feels so fucking unreal, like Chris's cock always does, and for a long while he's content to fuck desperately back into his lover, pleasure easing and blooming again and again.

But what he doesn’t have is the speed and God, he wants it faster and rougher than what he can do himself. Sebastian needs to come, and the only way he’d be able to at this rate would be if he could touch his cock—if he could just _touch_ it—or if Chris would finally decide to pound him into their bed like he always does when he’s dominating him.

Tears are blurring his vision, and hell, if he could just scream that would be a release. He desperately needs some fucking release. But he’s not going to moan, or scream, or beg for Chris to move. He’s gonna fuck himself at this pathetic pace until he comes because he knows he has to do it.

Sebastian’s movements become shorter in an effort to quicken his thrusts. The head of Chris’s cock stimulates his prostate more rapidly, and Chris becomes aware of his new tactic. “That’s it, c’mon.”

Adrenalized by Chris’s encouragement, Sebastian rocks impossibly faster. He wants to tell Chris that this feels so fucking good, that he’s so hard that he might actually explode this time, but he doesn’t say a thing, not even a gasp.

Sebastian nearly bites off a chunk of his tongue when Chris delivers a sharp, loud slap to his ass. “C’mon,” Chris growls, “c’mon, c’mon, _c’mon_ —” Chris cuts himself off with a low groan. It’s a mystery to him how he’s not moving. In fact, its physically aching for him to not move but it’s so fucking worth it to have Sebastian fuck himself like this. And hysterically, he reminds himself that they should really get married or get matching tattoos or something because Sebastian is a fucking catch and he never wants him out of his life.

The tears are flowing freely now and Sebastian is partly glad he’s not allowed to speak because he probably wouldn’t be able to look Chris in the eye after vomiting all the things he wants to say right now. Another round of hard slaps nearly makes him come but somehow, after everything, he’s still missing something.

Chris drags his fingernails over the abused skin of his ass and Sebastian visibly trembles, but doesn’t skip a beat of his little fucks over Chris’s cock, and Chris knows Sebastian deserves something for his perseverance. Chris makes his tongue work. “Alright, baby, let it out. Tell me what you want, anything, just tell me and it’ll happen—”

Like a dam bursting, Sebastian sobs and shrieks nonsensically until there’s no air left in his lungs. And he inhales—another sob—and shouts until his cries devolve into groans. Somehow he manages to say real, actual words. “Oh, God, oh God. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me- _e—”_

Chris slaps his ass again, digging his nails in. “You want me to fuck you?” Because he’s still a shit.

Sebastian’s still moving, but not as fast as he was previously because his body just can’t keep up. “Yes! Yes, sir. Please, sir. I’ll do anything, oh _God,”_ he sobs some more.

“Alright, I’ve got you,” he chides. Chris pets his sides, heavily, to his tense shoulders, then a hand makes it up to grip Sebastian’s mussed hair. He gives it a rough tug and Sebastian whimpers. “Wanna turn you ‘round, though. Need to see your face when you come with me inside you.” Chris punctuates this with a few achingly slow rolls of his hips— _fuck,_ finally—still gripping Sebastian’s now completely devastated pompadour.

Chris pulls out completely and gets a view of his remarkably hard cock slipping from Sebastian’s hole, gaping obscenely. He guides Sebastian to maneuver his legs further down the bed to anchor him into the new position. Flipping onto his back, the scarves twist his arms to cross tightly over his head, but Sebastian hardly cares because Chris is finally gonna fuck him hard and fast and just how he needs it.

Sebastian is quick to lift his trembling thighs high and Chris grabs them and pushes so that they plaster themselves to his chest. And Chris, because he’s terrible, bends between Sebastian’s legs to mouth kisses to his cock, then further down to the ring of his ass once again.

The hole under his tongue seizes as Chris fucks it, and Sebastian is wordless as if muscle memory has taken over. After a few long seconds, Sebastian yelps helplessly again and Chris ends his torture.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help it. You taste so damn _good_ ,” Chris pushes in with one solid movement and Sebastian resumes his weeping.

“ _Oh_ , _God_ ,” Sebastian howls as Chris hammers deep and unrelenting. Sebastian could die like this and he would be happy. After everything, Chris is still huge inside him. He’s bordering the edge so his ringed, glazed eyes seek out Chris’s own.

Chris is determined not to come until Sebastian does, so he aims for Sebastian’s prostate repeatedly and brutally until he feels the leaking cock between their stomachs pulse and slicken their chests. Sebastian cries, clamping down around Chris’s cock violently, which brings Chris over the edge with a hoarse shout. Pulling against his restraints, Sebastian’s orgasm wracks his entire core—electrified into bliss as Chris spills inside is opened body. It takes several moments for their bodies to still, and when Chris can begin to think again he kisses Sebastian’s red lips. Sebastian takes a little while to reciprocate.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chris hisses. Sebastian agrees. ‘Fuck’ indeed.

Chris swipes the soaked hairs pasted to Sebastian’s forehead and they kiss and they kiss, uncaring of the crusting come on their bodies. He angles to pull out and Sebastian stops him with his powerful legs. “Not yet,” he murmurs gruffly. It’ll get uncomfortable in a short while, Sebastian knows this, but he just wants to remain close for a little longer. “Can you…?” he asks, jerking his arms.

He’s answered with another kiss, and Chris unties the bonds. Ignoring the groans of his muscles, Sebastian immediately wraps his arms to embrace Chris around his neck.

Sebastian is kissed on and around his mouth until his partner pulls back to read his eyes. The moment is either ruined or enhanced when they crack into giggles at exactly the same time.

“We are completely insane,” Sebastian croaks through his fit.

“What do you mean? I dunno about you, but I certainly had a lot of fun,” Chris jokes.

Sebastian swats at his chest, smiling deliriously. “Oh yeah? That what you call it?”

“Sounded like you were enjoying it, _baby_.”

Sebastian retorts by nipping at Chris’s impossible bottom lip and squeezing his ass around Chris’s oversensitive cock, earning him an undignified yelp.

“Oh, c’mon! You _love_ it.”

He pulls back, sobering. “Yeah,” Sebastian hums, smile soft and full. “I do.”

Somehow Chris understands the words unsaid. Of course he does. He responds with another kiss, and they lay together, completely deaf to the world.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 


End file.
